Motherhood
by Irene T447
Summary: Young!Regina ficlet. Emma finds a five year old Regina running up and down the streets of Storybrooke. A little something I wrote about a year ago. Possible Swanqueen.
1. Chapter 1

She stood stiffly, lips pressed in a thin red line as her younger self clung to her legs and buried her face into the Mayor's hip. Regina watched as Emma regarded them nonchalantly.

"What's wrong?" Emma asked in response to Regina's apparent discomfort.

"Sorry, still new to all this. I'm guessing this doesn't usually happen in the Enchanted Forest?"

Regina's withering look was answer enough.

"Take that as a no, then," Emma grunted, slinging her hands into her pockets, "Great, well, then, that's fantastic. I'll leave you two be then."

Regina's head snapped up.

"What? You're just going to leave me?" The Mayor demanded, incredulously, "Emma!?"

"Yup," Emma turned on her heel and began making her way to Regina's front door, "That's the plan."

Regina lurched toward the retreating form of the Savior, knocking her younger self over who let out a startled yelp as Regina caught her. In a fluid, practiced motion, Regina swung the child into her arms and ran toward the door where Emma was sliding her boots on, one hand already sliding the door open a crack.

"No you don't, Miss Swan, you do not get to run from this!" Regina roughly slammed the door shut with her body, coming face to face with a scowling blonde sheriff. She shifted the child's weight on her hip and spared her left arm to grab and twist the deadbolt shut, securing it with magic.

She watched Emma's face fall and snarled, "What the Hell was that?"

At the use of such foul language, younger Regina covered her ears adorably.

"...I...uh," Emma stuttered.

Regina shook her head and advanced, pushing the blonde back into the house.

"What were you thinking?"

"I wasn't-"

Regina let out a barking laugh.

"Clearly!"

Then, she shoved the weight into the Sheriff's arms. The blonde struggled with the transfer of bony limbs and young Regina let out a squeal of discomfort during the process.

Regina stomped off to the kitchen, combing fingers through her dark hair out of apparent stress.

Emma was, if not entirely weirded out by the fact that she was holding a tiny version of her evil step grandmother, highly uncomfortable with dealing with small kids. Particularly ones who appear to be abandoned. Her only experience with children, Henry being the only exception, had been during her years as a foster kid, and memories of those dark and unpleasant days were welcome not into her already very emotionally overworked brain.

Admittedly, she had been more than a little blown away upon finding the 5 year old evil-queen-to-be running around Storybrooke's sidewalks in a sundress. It was a legit 'what the fuck' moment well deserving of some slack-jawed gawking and a few rounds of beer. Note to self, Emma thought. Maybe she was still in shock, or maybe it was because after just finding out that her parents are THE prince charming and snow white of legends, it's difficult for life's curve balls to top that one, but finding young Regina appeared, at least to Emma, to be less of a jolting experience to her as it was the child's older counterpart.

Small Regina wiggled restlessly in the savior's not so maternally engaged grip, so the blonde let the child slide limply to the floor where she immediately pouted and demanded to be picked up again in an adorable mockery of the sovereign authority her older double exuberated on a daily basis. Emma groaned inwardly and plucked the child from the floor with a little less reluctance than she expected, and stomped towards the kitchen where older Regina had disappeared into and made sounds of opening and closing cabinets.

"Alright, Miss Swan," the Mayor greeted Emma as she entered the kitchen, child still squirming uncomfortably in her arms.

The wickedly smirking brunette had a tumbler of cider in her hand and looked decidedly dangerous with it.

"Welcome to motherhood 101.".


	2. Chapter 2

Of all the magical happenings that could have possibly occurred, discovering herself - well, no, not quite herself; her child self - seemed so improbable to her that Regina spent most of the first morning in some sort of stupor. The burn of two and a half rounds of cider lingering in her throat, the slow shattering of her cool countenance, the wincing and finger tapping against the countertops as she analyzed every possible spell she could conceive of that would result in this disaster, all comprised her vague presence, leaving Miss Swan to deal with the child herself.

_Poor Emma..._

Is what she would have been thinking had she not been occupied with her own inner monologue. Now where was she again? Oh, that's right - parallel universe theories and -

SMASH

Emma looked to be at the end of her rope, face flushed, hair bedraggled. Running after young Regina had certainly taken its toll.

And it wasn't even two o'clock.

"Regina!" Emma hollered, and both brunettes turned to look at her, one with an impish grin, the other with a dark scowl. "Help me!"

Regina waved her hand, cleaning up the mess her younger self had made of the lower to reach cabinetry and returned to brooding.

"What do you want from me?" The blonde whined, kneeling in front of the five year old, who snickered and ran away.

The sheriff returned to the mayor, opening her mouth and taking a deep, deep breath to say exactly what was on her mind -

Regina rubbed her temples with a scowl. "Quiet," she snapped. "I'm thinking!"

"You've been thinking all morning. Get up and help me. You were a complete brat!" Emma gives Regina a hard look, "Don't even try to deny that."

"I was very stubborn," Regina admitted.

"You still are!" Emma scoffed, casting the mayor a sharp look. The brunette tilted her head, not disagreeing. "Listen," Emma continued, "I need you to get out of your head for a moment. I don't know what I'm doing!"

"Just give me a little longer..." Regina grumbled.

"Do you honestly not care that you are destroying your house?"

The mayor looked around and sighed, pinching her brow. Had it been Henry? Grounded for a month. Minimum. She waved her hand nonetheless and cleared the mess.

Little Regina came tumbling through the walkway from the stairwell. "Play with me more, Emma!"

"That's Miss Swan to you," Emma says, the end of her sentence less stern once she realizes the irony.

Regina rises and makes to leave the kitchen, thinking about her couch and a good silencing spell.

"Hey!" Emma stops her. "Don't you dare walk away from me. You told me I couldn't run. The same goes to you."

Eyes roll, more out of terror than anything else, which Regina finds hilarious in that nauseating sort of way. Because it has been a long while since she's been terrified of Emma, and for completely different reasons.

"Are you going to help me?"

"She doesn't know…" Regina whispers.

"What? That you're her? So what? She doesn't need to. At least not right now."

"Well…" she takes a deep, deep breath. "I don't want her...to know...about anything!"

Emma's eyes darken as things click into place. An abusive mother. Raids. Massacres. Years of hatred. Bloodshed. All of those little details…

Regina seems to realize the conclusion Emma's come to and relaxes.

"Okay, I get that," Emma says. "You don't even want to talk about Henry?"

Regina shrugs, looking lost. "I suppose I could. Just to...give her something to look forward to."

They hear something crash upstairs, and pounding footsteps. Both women rush to the top and find Henry's bookshelves toppled over.

"Kid, you have way too much energy," Emma deadpans.

"We're going to take a short trip to the park," Regina says, arms crossed.


End file.
